“Good news, Ashok!” Ammaji sang on Wednesday after he came home from work. “I got some gorgeous saris in the mail today. One that I think you’re going to love. The whole thing is gold glitter. With a red blouse or a purple blouse it’s going to be, wow!”
“Thanks, Ammaji,” he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I don’t know how many saris I’ll be wearing for a while, but it never hurts to stock up.”
“I’m saying…”
Monica was at the kitchen table fingering sari silks as she pulled them from the box like a magician with a never-ending handkerchief. “It makes me wish I’d have a place to wear some of these,” she said. “Do you think you and Danny might have a traditional Indian wedding someday? I could wear one of these?”
Ashok laughed. “Me and a big white guy, it wouldn’t be that traditio
